


Head Over Heels

by embroiderama



Category: White Collar
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, Marriage Proposal, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-22 00:20:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1569128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embroiderama/pseuds/embroiderama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moments over the course of the year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Head Over Heels

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of brief timestamps for [Slip and Fall](http://embroiderama.livejournal.com/599355.html). It's set in a vague AU in which the finale of season 4 ended without the drama of the shooting and all that came after it, and in which Sara decided to stay in New York.

"Peter?" Neal stood in the open doorway to Peter's office and knocked on the door frame.

Peter looked up then raised his eyebrows and stood up. "What happened to you?"

Neal looked down at the sling that was holding his left arm to his chest then shook his head. "It's not a big deal, but I need to talk to you about something."

"Not a big deal? Neal, your arm is in a cast. What happened?" Peter came over to chivvy Neal into one of the chairs in front of his desk, and Neal allowed it. Peter sat down in the other guest chair and leaned forward. "Well?"

"I slipped on some ice and landed on my wrist, but it's a simple fracture. I should be out of the hard cast in a few weeks; it's not important." The truth was that his wrist was throbbing from the hassle of getting dressed that morning, but Neal had spent the weekend resting his arm and obsessing over what would happen with Sara and the baby. His arm would be back to normal soon, but the rest of his life wasn't ever going to be the same.

"Okay," Peter said slowly, "so what is it you want to talk about if it's not the fact that you got hurt over the weekend."

"I--" Neal had so many concerns that he didn't know what to bring up first. "I should finish my sentence and be off of the anklet in about a year, correct?"

"That's right," Peter said, his voice full of questions.

"I need you to help me make sure that happens. Whatever I have to do, I need to make sure this is going to be behind me, and I can't stand the thought that something could pop up, something like Kramer, to keep me in this position or send me back to prison."

Peter looked at Neal steadily for a moment then got up and closed his office door before returning to his seat. "Why is this coming up now? What have you--" Peter shook his head.

"I haven't done anything, not like that, but I got some news on Friday."

"What kind of news?" Peter looked worried, and Neal could see the gears working, Peter wondering if it was something about his health, something about his family, something about an old heist come back to haunt him.

"Sara's pregnant." It felt strange to say the words, and Neal swallowed as he watched Peter's eyes widen. "We're going to have a baby."

Peter's mouth dropped open, but then he blinked and shook himself. "You're serious?"

"I couldn't be more serious here, Peter. If you don't believe me--"

"No, I do. Of course I do, I'm just shocked. Congratulations!" Peter reached over and clapped Neal on the shoulder. "How far along is she?"

Neal relaxed back into the chair and let himself smile. "Just over two months. She doesn't want me spreading the news around for another month or two, but she gave me permission to tell you."

"She's doing okay with all of this?"

"You know Sara. And I know she could manage all of this without me, but I don't want it to be that way."

"You want to be there, I get it. I take it you're worried about what you're going to do once you're off the anklet?"

Neal nodded. "My first concern is finishing my sentence and avoiding anything that would take me away from them in the future, and I know that Sara makes enough to support a child, but I need to be able to contribute as well as support myself."

"Legally."

"Yes. I have some ideas but I'm not sure about the timing of starting my own business while I have--when we'll have an infant."

Peter nodded. "Give me some time to work on this, and I'll see what I can do. I'll work up a timeline of exactly when you can get rid of the anklet and what we need to do to make sure that happens. You know that the majority of the latter is in your hands."

"You don't think I can keep my nose clean? This is _important_ to me." Neal heard his voice crack, and he pressed his lips together, breathing through his nose to steady himself.

"I know," Peter said gently. "And I know you can. I believe you will."

"Thank you."

Peter sat back and just looked at Neal for a long moment until Neal wanted to squirm.

"What?" Neal asked, finally.

"I'm just trying to imagine you as a father. It's like a whole new Neal Caffrey." Peter smiled then, one of the warm, fond smiles that never failed to make Neal feel like he'd done something right. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Not right now."

"Okay, then why don't you go home? You look like you could use a pain pill in the near future."

Neal sighed. It was true, now that the tension and anticipation of waiting to talk to Peter had gone, the pain in his arm was growing more prominent. "I can work if you need me."

"I know, but there's nothing major going on today, and I can't imagine you're in the mood for busy work. Just take it as a gift, go home."

Neal gave in and nodded. As Neal stood up, Peter stood as well. Peter put one hand on Neal's good arm, and Neal let himself be reeled in for a hug. It felt good, knowing that Peter was on his side, that he believed freedom was in Neal's future. After a moment, Peter patted Neal on the back and pulled away.

"This is going to work out okay," Peter said as he sat down behind his desk. "Trust me and trust yourself to let it happen."

"Thank you." Neal picked up his coat, hat and bag from his desk then headed to the elevator and outside to find a cab. Despite the pain in his arm, his mind was more at rest than it had been since Sara first whispered those words in his ear. Neal had long learned to trust himself when it came to things like picking a lock or jumping from one rooftop to the next, but fatherhood was a new kind of leap. Peter's support made it easier to believe that in seven months he'd be able to take Sara's hand and walk into it with his eyes wide open.

~~~

Neal loved watching Sara's body change. The lanky stretch of her midsection grew slowly into a gentle curve; her breasts grew larger, heavier in Neal's hands; her face softened. He treasured every opportunity to explore her, to feel the give of her breasts under his tongue, to trace the taut curve of her belly and imagine the new life growing inside. He couldn't take away the unpleasant aspects of being pregnant, but he could kneel between her legs. He could tease her and taste her until she trembled and came, until she fell into a deep and restful sleep.

He could do that every night, if she wanted. She didn't, but he could deal with that, too.

~~~

Neal leaned against the front of Sara's building, grateful for the late afternoon shadows that were making the summer heat more bearable. He kept a look out for approaching cabs, hoping to see Sara before she spotted him, and when he caught a glimpse of long, red hair in the back of a cab pulling up in front of the building he grabbed the cooler bag at his feet and prepared himself for her reaction. He wanted to open the door and help her out of the cab, but he didn't think she'd appreciate being startled.

He watched as she hauled herself awkwardly out of the car, and when she noticed him he answered her frown with a wide smile. "Hello, Sara!"

"Neal. What are you doing here?" Sara closed the cab door behind herself and walked past Neal toward the door to her building.

"I brought you dinner." Neal followed her inside, and she sighed but didn't argue as he got into the elevator with her. Sara pressed the button for her floor then leaned against the wall and blew her hair out of her face. She was flushed, her hair not as well-tamed as usual, her belly an awkward shape on top of her slim legs, and she glared at Neal from a few feet away.

"I can order delivery on my own, you know."

"Obviously, but I thought you might like something homemade. And I want to take care of you."

Sara sighed, visibly softening. "The way I feel right now, after dragging my giant body around the city in this heat, you might just want to stay away. I'm not--I'm just ready to not be pregnant anymore."

"Only six more weeks." As far as Neal was concerned, the time was going much too quickly, and six weeks didn't sound like enough time for him to be ready to be a father.

"Only! Let me tell you, if you were the one waddling around with your own personal heat generator, you wouldn't be talking about 'only.'" The elevator doors opened, and Sara walked out into the hallway with a huff.

"I'm sorry," Neal said as he followed. Sara opened the door to her condo, and Neal instantly shivered at the blast of cool air that greeted them. Sara kicked off her shoes, dropped her bag next to the door, walked over to her sofa and and sat down, her eyes closed as she sighed in relief.

"I got a thermostat I can control with my phone. Best purchase ever."

"I didn't know they came with a meat locker setting."

"Very funny."

Neal unpacked the food he'd brought and put most of it in the fridge then poured one of her sparkling waters into a glass and took it over to the sofa. "Something to drink?"

Sara opened her eyes and gave Neal a small smile as she accepted the glass. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He sat down, turning sideways on the couch. "Just give me your feet and you can relax while you hydrate."

"I'm not sure what's more bizarre, being pregnant or having a manservant." Sara turned to lean against the far side of the couch and adjusted her dress as she stretched out her legs. Sara's clothes weren't quite as form-fitting as the dresses she usually favored, but not even the third trimester of pregnancy could get her into clothes that weren't fitted and fashionable. "That said, I won't turn down one of your foot massages."

"Wise choice." Neal pulled the tube of peppermint lotion from his pocket and started smoothing it onto one of Sara's feet. She sighed as he stroked his thumbs up the sole of her foot, pressing into the arch and moving more gently over the balls of her feet. She sipped at her water while he worked, and it was a calm kind of quietness. By the time he was finished rubbing her feet, he thought that she had fallen asleep but she opened her eyes when he stopped working.

"That was lovely. You could do that professionally."

"I'll keep it in mind." With less than five months left on his sentence, Neal was still waiting to hear about official approval of Peter's proposal to hire him as consultant. He was working on a business plan of his own, but he needed to have something stable lined up for the immediate future. "What do you think about dinner?"

"I think I'm starving, but I don't want anything heavy."

"I brought chilled corn soup, a salad with grilled chicken and ginger-lime sorbet for dessert."

"That sounds--" Sara shook her head and smiled. "Amazing. Thank you."

"Thank you for letting me be a part of this." Neal stood then moved to perch on the edge of the sofa next to Sara's hip and leaned in to kiss her. "I love you. And I'm going to love her."

Sara rested her head on Neal's for a moment then whispered, "I think you said something about food?"

Neal laughed. "Coming right up."

Neal was gathering the food to take it back to the living room but Sara made her way to the table before he had the soup and salad transferred into dishes, and while they ate Neal caught her giving him an odd, uncertain look. "Is something wrong?"

"No, this is delicious. I do have something I want to ask you, but I don't want you to feel obligated."

Neal put his spoon down. "Obligated about what?"

"I talked to Peter, just to make sure this wouldn't cause any problems, and he said it would be fine. So, what do you think about moving in with me?"

Neal sat back, startled, and realized he was sitting there with his mouth open. "Are you sure that's something you want? I know you like having your own space."

"I'm used to having my own space, but that'll come to an end in about six weeks, whether you're here or not. And, in terms of _your_ own space you could always keep your apartment as well. I don't imagine June would be in a hurry to get rid of you."

"Between Mozzie and Peter, that's never exactly been my own space."

"True!"

"Moving in is a big step."

"Also true."

Neal took a deep breath to dispel his sudden nervousness. "I would love to be able to spend more time with you, see you every day. And I worry about you being here alone, in case something goes wrong."

"I don't want you to move in to take care of me."

"I know. How about, for right now, we just say that I'm staying here. That way, if you change your mind, you don't have to kick me out. You can just ask your guest to leave."

"I--okay. As long as being a guest won't stop you from making this soup again sometime."

Neal smiled, relieved. "That won't be a problem at all."

~~~

Neal was in the middle of attempting to charm a suspected corporate spy into trusting "George, the new guy" when his phone chimed to let him know he had a text. This was George's phone, Neal's own phone having been left in the surveillance van with Peter, and Neal was expecting a phone call from Peter, but not so soon and not a text. It was probably a wrong number, but when the phone chimed again Neal couldn't resist his curiosity. "Excuse me, Shannon."

 _Code B,_ the first text said, and Neal forced himself to keep his reaction off of his face. _Wrap it up ASAP._

Neal managed to avoid turning on his heel and leaving the building. He finished his conversation with Shannon, and he thought that she had probably taken his bait but he didn't wait around to find out for sure. He sauntered out of her office, walked briskly down the hall, then pounded down the four flights of stairs to the street. The van was idling outside, and Neal scrambled into the back. "Were you serious about that? Code B? Is this some kind of a demented fire drill?"

Peter shook his head and pulled Neal down to sit as the van lurched away from the curb. "Sara's in labor. She's on her way to the hospital, and we'll get you there to meet her."

"But we still have three weeks. Maybe she's not actually in labor."

"Her water broke," Peter said steadily. "You don't have three weeks anymore, but that's not too early. I'm sure they'll be fine."

"Holy shit." Neal leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees, and his hands were shaking in front of him. "I can't do this."

"You going to have to, buddy." Peter put his hand on Neal's back and left it there, heavy and steadying, until the van pulled up in front of the hospital. Neal jumped out of the back of the van and ran inside, knowing that Peter would follow. Neal hurried up to the maternity department, and tried to be ready for what he would find when he got there. He envisioned Sara in pain and angry, shouting at him and Sara stoic and composed, breathing through the pain and chiding him for his worry.

He had never imagined what he found: Sara in a hospital gown, weeping with her hands over her face. Neal's mouth filled with a bitter taste of panic. "Sara? What happened?"

She jerked and looked up. "Oh, Neal." She wiped a hand over her eyes, but she was still crying. "I'm sorry!"

"W-what--" Neal didn't know what his face looked like, but Sara's eyes widened and she reached out a hand to him.

"No, no, nothing happened! I'm okay. Sit _down_ , Neal."

Neal felt shaky as he walked over, but it was good to take her hand and slump into the chair at her side. "You--the baby--" Neal didn't know what to ask.

A nurse came into the room then, looking unconcerned. "Hello. Are you the daddy?"

"Yes." Neal turned back to Sara when he heard her gasp. "Sara?"

"Just--ugh." Sara closed her eyes and put a hand on her rounded belly.

"It's a contraction." the nurse smiled at Neal and checked on the monitors hooked up to Sara. "It's a good thing. The doctor will be back in soon but use the call button if you need us."

Sara relaxed back against her pillows, apparently done with the contraction for now. "Thank you." When they were alone again, Sara squeezed Neal's hand. "I'm sorry for scaring you. I just--I don't know." Tears welled in Sara's eyes again.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't here faster."

"No, you did fine. I just started thinking that other women have their mothers here, their sisters, and I thought I got past missing them a long time ago but suddenly it was all I could feel." Sara wiped at her eyes again. "I hate being so emotional."

"You have a pretty good excuse."

Sara bit her lip as she teared up despite herself, but she didn't resist when Neal pulled her into his arms. It was awkward, with Neal standing next to the bed and Sara reclining, but Neal held on and calmed his breathing. After a couple of minutes, Sara stiffened and pushed Neal away with a firm hand on his chest. Before Neal could ask what was wrong, Sara groaned with another contraction and Neal hit the button to call the nurse.

"I know we said we'd wait," Sara gasped out, speaking quickly. "But I want to name her--" Sara stopped to breathe through the contraction.

"Whatever you want. Anything."

"After my sister. I want to name her after my sister."

"Emily Ellis sounds perfect to me."

Sara gave him a watery smile before she had to close her eyes and push again. "Middle name Caffrey," she ground out.

It took another few rounds of contractions for Emily to make her way out, but sooner then Neal had expected he heard the baby cry. He watched as they cleaned her off and brought her over, tiny and pink and bald, and rested her on Sara's chest. Sara closed her eyes, exhausted, and Neal stood with one hand in Sara's hair and the other on Emily's back, watching them both breathe.

Some time later, Neal stumbled out to the waiting room and found himself pushed down into a chair with Peter, El and Mozzie all clustered around him. There were too many questions for Neal to answer all at once, but they went quiet when he held up his hand. "They're both fine. Emily Caffrey Ellis is 5 pounds, fourteen ounces, 22 inches and...perfect."

"Aw, congratulations!" El hugged Neal. "It went okay?"

"Hon, he already said they're fine." Peter pulled Neal into a back-slapping hug. "Congratulations, Papa."

"Certain is it that there is no kind of affection so purely angelic as of a father to a daughter," Mozzie quoted, though Neal couldn't place it so he just nodded. Everything felt surreal.

"I guess she's taking after you already, huh?" Peter looked at Neal with a sly smirk, but Neal felt like his brain was moving much too slowly to figure it out.

"Is she?"

"She made an early escape, didn't she?"

Neal wanted to be offended but all he could do was laugh.

"This man needs a drink," Mozzie said. Neal was still quietly laughing when El passed him a cup of coffee, and Mozzie muttered, "That's not what I meant."

"I put an airplane bottle of whiskey in my purse for this very occasion."

"Very smart, Mrs. Suit."

Neal took a sip of the spiked coffee, then another, and felt himself start to settle. He looked around at his friends and thought that if he let himself he could start crying the way Sara had been earlier. He drained the cup then looked at them all and smiled. "I can't wait for you to meet my daughter."

~~~

Neal planned a small party for the day his sentence was complete, the anklet removed one last time. His apartment, so often unoccupied these days, was filled with good friends, champagne and fine food making everything shine a little brighter. Emily was asleep in the crib Neal kept for her, snoozing despite the noise like a true Manhattan baby, and when he thought they could slip away unnoticed he led Sara out onto the terrace. The evening was warm for winter, but he drew her close.

"Now that I'm a free man, I want to ask you something. It was the wrong time for us before, but I hope that this might be the right time."

"Neal," Sara said gently. "You don't--"

"Please let me," Neal whispered. He felt the small box in his pocket, the ring that was nothing like the storied stolen ring he'd dreamed of giving to Kate. That had been a fantasy, but this was reality, and reality included a tasteful ring he'd bought at an estate sale. It had been almost criminally undervalued, but the purchase was totally legal. Neal held out the ring, and looked into Sara's eyes. "Will you do me the honor of allowing me to become Mr. Neal Ellis?"

"I--" Sara's eyes teared up, but then she blinked. "What? Neal _Ellis_?"

"You know Caffrey's not my real name. It's a name I took, and there's something very appealing about moving forward with a name that would be given to me. I also like the idea of the three of us sharing a name--you, me and Emily."

"Well I guess that makes sense." Sara nodded.

"So--" Neal took Sara's hand and stroked his thumb over the spot where he hoped his ring would go. "Sara Ellis, will you marry me?"

"I will. Oh, Neal, of course I will!" Neal slid the ring onto her finger, and Sara pulled him in for a kiss. Neal felt a rush of relief and hope flood through his body, and he held onto Sara as she held him back. Right there, under the cool night sky, Neal knew that they could do it, they could make a life together, and for the first time in a year he wasn't afraid of the future.


End file.
